


Empty Fridges, Full Stores

by rambque



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dream pretty much knows what he wants, George is an exchange student, George is kind of oblivious and dumb, Grocery Shopping, Hurt/Comfort, I just have brain rot and ran with it, M/M, Mild OoC, No beta reader, This is really just a homework assignment, anxiety mention, anything super triggering will be put in the notes before a chapter as a second warning!, let me know if you think something should be tagged and isn't!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29800137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rambque/pseuds/rambque
Summary: Dream is probably one of the worst college students. He's habitually late, and if it wasn't for Sapnap, he would probably forget to eat. After a long day he really just wants a sandwich and the fridge is empty.George is an exchange student from England, trying to adjust to his new Floridian lifestyle. He lives off of coffee and quick service meals and needs to replenish his dorm room stock.
Relationships: BadBoyHalo/Skeppy, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RBF)/GeorgeNotFound, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RBF), Dream/GeorgeNotFound, Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Skeppy/Babboyhalo, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Kudos: 14





	1. Empty Fridges, Full Stores

The fragrant air in the house was comfortable, the open windows pushing the fresh Floridian air through the house. The slight breeze caressed the pale skin of the slumped-over figure in the pleather chair. They fixated their green eyes on the glowing screen in front of them watching as a flurry of shapes and brilliant colours danced across the monitor. The figure groaned and rubbed his eyes, leaning back with a small groan. He shoved his mouse and keyboard forward as the movement on the screen promptly stopped. He spun around, carefully closing his eyes. The sudden movement left his head spinning and stomach-churning. Dream graciously allowed his body a moment of needed rest. He did not realize how much he needed the break until he peeled his eyes away from the torment of the ever-enduring blue light. 

Between homework and his ample time spent playing games with his friends, when was he not looking at his monitor. The natural sunlight brilliantly illuminated the room. The sun shined into the space, instead of darkness and the subtle glow of green LED lights; Dream saw the faint red of the inside of his eyelids. A small puff of air escaped his lips as his legs pushed the chair back, the wheels rolling on the linoleum hardwood floor. The wheels clicked over the visible seams. He opened his eyes slowly before he stood up. The tall man stretched before making his way out of his small bedroom and into the living room.

Patches was carefully laying on the windowsill enjoying her private little sunny spot as her tail flicked slowly. Her silky brown ears flicked back as Dream’s footsteps caused the old apartment floors to creak beneath him. She mewed quietly and hopped down, weaving in between his legs. Dream bent down and scooped her up. His size making the cat appear smaller than she truly was.  
“Patches, did you have a good day?” he politely asked her as they made their way into the kitchen together. Her small, pink, wet nose twitched as a meow escaped her mouth. He laughed and scratched the top of her head before setting down and fishing out a can of food for her. Dream cautiously opened it and dumped it into a small plastic bowl. “Only the best for my queen,” he teased, running his slender hand over her back.

Dream sat back and rummaged through his empty fridge. Mayonnaise… old lettuce… milk that was dangerously close to its expiration date… ketchup… a thing of hot sauce… beer. He intentionally let out an exacerbated sigh and closed the fridge that began to protest at the increasing internal temperature with pleasant little chimes. Dream pulled out his phone, his long fingers stroking the side as he fumbled with the power button. He knew he would need to ask Sapnap what they needed as far as groceries go. After a moment of considerable deliberation, the dirty blonde decided against pestering the younger while he was with his partner. He dreaded what he could potentially disturb and the backlash he would face because of it. He groaned and slipped on his tennis shoes, stuffing his wallet into his pocket. Dream grabbed the dirty green lanyard that his car keys dangled on, leaving the house with a goodbye and a promise to return to his beloved cat. Patches mewed in response and sat near the door before returning to her idyllic spot.

The drive was painfully uneventful for the lanky, young man. The local radio played the same handful of songs on repeat. Dream mumbled along halfheartedly with the familiar tunes, almost intuitively. Periodically the hissing static would break from soft background noise to cut through the tunes, obscuring the words. He glanced at the car radio and carefully set his right thumb over the tuning dial in a vain attempt to produce clearer audio. After a minute or two of trial and mostly error, he gave up. The sign advertising the store hovered over the street. He could go another minute or two without music.  
It took Dream significantly longer than a minute to find a parking space. The grocery store parking lot was full of cars: beat up and dirty to new and shiny. He sighed, a minor part of him wanted to drive back home and try again later, yet he promptly abandoned that thought when his stomach began to rumble. Dream drove up the aisles of cars, ultimately finding a parking space towards the back of the lot. The walk from his car to the store was long but manageable for the young college student. He fished his reusable bags out of the backseat of his car, trying to condense the majority of the bulk into one of the larger bags as he walked towards the store. He kept his gaze low, breezing past the greeter and straight towards his cart. He flung his bags haphazardly into the basket and slogged his way through the store. He scrolled through his list, his thumb gliding across the temper glass screen protector. Dream only bothered to procure food for himself. If Sapnap wanted something when — no, if — he returned from his partner’s house. Sapnap could be gone for weeks and would barely notice. Dream really didn’t mind. The quiet of the house was comforting, but often he sincerely wished his best friend was nearby to confide in him.

Dream glanced over the loaded cart, grimacing. This would do a number on his bank account, but at least he wouldn’t need to take another trip to the store again. The continuous lines at the check stands were unbelievably long and looped around some of the aisles. He pushed his overflowing cart into a line, trying to take up the smallest amount of space humanly possible. He double-checked his extensive list as he waited in line. The handlebar dug uncomfortably into his boney hip, what muscle he had there provided little to no cushion. He shifted trying to find a more pleasant way to stand. The movement sent the cart forward and into the attractive brunette in front of him. Dream pulled the cart back quickly, his face warming. The other man glanced back at him.  
“I am so sorry,” Dream said, wanting to remedy this as fast as he could.“I didn’t expect it to move that far forward.”

The brunette shook his head and laughed a lovely bit as he adjusted his light blue sweatshirt sleeve. “It’s okay,” he reassured.“I like thinking most people don’t purposefully run a trolley into someone else… Though I could be mistaken.” His accent was hard for the blonde to place, but it definitely was not an accent he had heard in Florida, well outside of the major tourist hotspots.

“Trolley?” Dream asked, a small chuckle brushing past his lips.

The other laughed merrily. “Shopping cart,” he clarified. “I’m George,” he said, moving the white sunglasses from his hand to the collar of his shirt. He extended his hand to Dream.  
Dream looked at his hand before carefully shaking it. George’s hand was cold and a little bit clammy. “Dream,” he returned. “You clearly aren’t from around here,” he mused. “Are you just visiting?”

George shook his head. “No, I’m not from around here. You’re extremely observant,” he teased, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “I’m a transfer student from Britain. I go to the University of Central Florida.” George glanced forward and moved his cart along. The blonde nodded approvingly. He wasn’t too fazed at the mention of the university; a hearty portion of this area was either retired snowbirds or college students trying to build some distance from the campus and their home.

“That’s where my roommate Sapnap and I go.” He looked over George, noting the bountiful smattering of light freckles that kissed the pale skin on his lovely nose. He found himself examining deep brown and expressive eyes, a stark contrast to the stormy blue-green of his own. Dream’s brilliant eyes drifted down to impossibly white and straight teeth and an infectious smile. He smiled indulgently a bit before leaning against the cart again, this time making sure it did not roll forward into George. “It’s a relatively great school.”

“I’ve noticed. It’s vastly different than back home,” George candidly admitted, slowly moving along with the line. There was a small lull in their conversation as Dream thought of what to say. He was absolutely enamored watching George talk.

Dream tapped the bar of the cart, a dull thud escaping out of it. “So what’s it like in Britain, since this is ‘vastly different’?” he asked. He absently mocked George’s accent since the inflection of the Brit's voice felt like a humorous exaggeration.

George chuckled a bit. “Well, it’s always hot and sticky here. I feel like I swam in my clothes right after it rains and that I was set on fire. The rain in England is refreshing unless it’s summer but this rain constantly feels, like, heavy,” he began explaining. He rambled on a bit more about the fundamental difference in the humidity between Florida and England, moving along with the line. Dream merely listened. He had never left the United States, let alone the southern portion of it. He grew up on the painfully stifling, humid summers that would instantly make his blonde hair frizz out. He couldn’t sympathize with the dreary wintry weather and snow George was describing. “Anyways, the snow and freezing temperatures absolutely beat this. You can fix being cold,” George finished.  
“You can fix being hot too. It’s called a swimming pool or a beach,” Dream quipped. “There is a reason everyone here has a private pool.”

“Unless you are a college student living on campus and the school gymnasium’s pool is absolutely terrifying,” he continued. George bumped into the belt with a dull thud and hummed a bit as he began loading things onto the belt that groaned along after years of abuse.

Dream shrugged. “I mean it could be worse. It could be a public pool. I’m sure you have those in England.”

“We do, and I don’t like them either, Dream,” George chuckled. The blonde watched him unload everything. George’s cart was significantly less full than his own, clearly only feeding himself or denoting the small dorm fridge. There was a lot of food that didn’t need to be cooked like granola bars, pop tarts, and chocolate pudding cups. Dream couldn’t even begin comparing that to his actual ingredients for planned meals, save for the three frozen pizzas he threw in last minute. George finished unloading and moved up so Dream could add his own things to the belt.

Dream began setting his things down, starting with the heavier items first. “You know…” he started. “If you’re looking to get to know some people, we have a pool at my place and my roommate is pretty fun when he’s home,” he offered, glancing up at George. “I promised I’m not like those ‘Florida Man’ articles. I typically play video games and to wrestle an alligator I would need to go outside more often,” he joked, smiling a bit himself.

A small puff of air, a stifled laugh, from George. “Are all Americans this effortlessly funny?” he carefully questioned.

Dream shook his head. “No because both my roommate and his boyfriend think that humor is still making ‘you mom’ jokes,” he groaned dismally, clearly irritated by just the thought of having to inevitably suffer through one more of those terrible jokes.

George shared a sympathetic sigh. “I mean, I know I’m not funny, maybe my distinctive accent is and that can add comedic value to anything,” he decided before directing his attention to the woman at the checkout. He pulled out his worn leather wallet and looked at it, swearing under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” the blonde asked.

“I forgot that my card isn’t set up yet here in the states and was going to use cash but, I… stupidly forgot to exchange all of it at the airport,” he grudgingly admitted, promptly pulling out a £10.

Dream thought for a moment and pulled out his own wallet. “Move over please, George,” he politely requested, moving past his cart. “You barely have that much anyways.” He swiped his card for George who offered him an appreciative smile.

George shifted a bit and picked up the reusable bag. “Thanks. Maybe I will come over and make some friends sometime.”

The taller nodded approvingly. “Totally, I mean I did just buy your granola bars and pop tarts,” he teased, smiling a bit at the other. This could work out well. This could start something new and eagerly welcome.


	2. Waiting for a Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George have been having small conversations for the past week. Dream decides that after a week of being friendly it's time to finally fulfill the promise of friends and hanging out. However, is waiting for a message really worth the anxiety welling inside the blonde?

As the pair left the store together, Dream glanced at George. “Let me give you my number,” he said, leaning against his full cart. His shopping spree utilized all his reusable bags and required two paper bags from the store. Dream never minded paying the extra ten cents, especially if it was necessary.

“You seem to be determined to get me to pay you back,” George laughed as he put on his sunglasses, shielding his eyes from the relentless light of the sun. The sun kissed his skin, making the shorter glow in the late afternoon light. Dream rolled his eyes and looked at the parking lot. He motioned for the British man to follow him to his car.

Dream unlocked his car with a scratched and worn key fob, the car beeping in response with a simple press of the button. He set his cart behind his car making sure the wheels were set so the metal beast did not roll into some unsuspecting car. The blonde made his way to the driver’s side door and pulled out a red pen. George observed him, cocking his head to the side. 

“Here, hand me your receipt,” he requested, holding his hand out. George fished the receipt out of his own bag and handed it over. Dream jotted down his number adding his name and a small smiley face in the corner of the thin paper. “Now, don’t lose that. You know, I don’t give my number to every British boy that I meet.”

“Oh ha, ha,” he responded dryly, though the subtle smile on his lips betrayed him. A small chime escaped from George’s pocket. “That would be my alarm, so I don’t miss the bus. I’ll make sure to send you a message later, Dream,” George chaffed. “Hopefully, I’ll see you soon as well.”

Dream nodded, waving the brunette off. “I’ll be waiting for your text George,” he countered before putting his groceries in the car. A small pit of anxiety welled in the bottom of his stomach. Did he really just give a man who had limited time in Florida his number in the hopes of friends? Did he really just want friendship? Dream mumbled a bit to himself before heading back home, wondering if this newfound friendship would last. 

A few days later Sapnap was home from Karl’s with the boyfriend in tow, and Dream was glad to finally have some noise other than himself and Patches in the house. Now admitting that to Sapnap? That would happen only if hell ever froze over. Throughout the week, he had numerous texting conversations which were witty and neither side spent much time waiting, a phone call, and countless 8Ball rematches when a less than desirable outcome happened for either one of the men. Sapnap looked at Dream, wondering why his roommate was so invested in his phone for the last few days. Dream under normal circumstances would hyper-focus on his monitors in his bedroom, not the handheld device. Dream preoccupied himself with writing a text, writing, and rewriting, the sound of the keyboard clicking giving away his slight insecurity. He could not figure out how to word his invitation to George.

“Hey Dream, you’re doing a terrible amount of typing right there,” Sapnap noted from his spot on the couch with Karl. “Something got you all worked up?” he asked. “Oh, maybe it's someone. Are you talking to someone?”

Dream rolled his eyes. “First of all, screw off, and second of all, I’m trying to figure out how to ask a friend over. We met at the grocery store while you were off doing whatever you were doing with Karl,” he explained. “He’s from England and goes to the same college as us.” Dream continued to type on his phone, opting for a tried and true ‘Do you want to come over?’. The phone confirmed the text's delivery with a whooshing bubble noise. He swore under his breath for not having the sound turned down. 

Karl looked at Dream. “What’d you say?” he asked curiously, pushing up from his spot at Sapnap’s side to see him better.

“I just asked him if he wanted to come over,” Dream said truthfully. “I’m sure he could use some friends or something here. So, you guys have to stay around.” In reality, Dream wasn’t sure what he would do alone with George. Sure, he knew how to be friendly and make someone feel comfortable, but something about George made him feel off. There was a full feeling in his chest every time his phone went off and he read the contact’s name. This sensation was foreign for the man or rather something he had not felt since early on in high school. Dating or even building strong friendships held small importance in his life. There was not a need for anyone else. He had Sapnap for years and they had always been enough for Dream. Dream checked his phone seeing the read receipt underneath his message as well as three dots bouncing in the left-hand corner as George typed. He watched him type, stop, type, and stop for a minute or two before the dots disappeared despite the lack of a message. Maybe this was George doing what Dream did to him a few minutes prior. He sucked in his next breath through his teeth, creating a slight hissing noise punctuated with the click of his tongue. 

He sat there staring at the phone for a moment longer before Sapnap got up and set the phone on the table. “Dude, your sound is on, relax. Why are you so anxious anyway?” he asked as he adjusted his hairband, pushing his black wavy hair out of his eyes.

Karl leaned forward, grinning. “Sappy, I think he has a crush,” he mused, looking at the younger blonde. Dream rolled his eyes and leaned back against the worn couch and reached over to pet his cat who sat on the back of the couch, balancing precariously. Sapnap sat back down and placed a hand on Karl’s thigh. That small touch distracted Dream, wondering what would happen if he did that to George. He caught himself falling into the same mental trap that he set earlier that week when he met him, quickly pushing that thought to the side. “Think about it. He’s been staring at his phone with a stupid smile for like what? The last two days,” Karl recalled as smoothing about the back of Sapnap’s hair. 

Sapnap gasped. “No way, Dream, Mr. I’m-too-busy-for-anything is interested in someone he met at the grocery store,” he laughed, doubling over. Dream grumbled a bit not appreciating the humor at his expense. He tucked his legs up onto the couch and flipped off the couple on the love seat adjacent to him. That simple motion set Karl into a fit of laughter that grated on Dream’s already ragged nerves. He rolled his eyes and grabbed his phone heading into his bedroom to find some peace. The last thing he wanted to happen right now was an interrogation.

Tomorrow or even later that evening, there was a good change that Dream would regret his short fuse. He knew that being on your phone was rude, especially when trying to enjoy the company of others. He really did adore Sapnap and Karl. They constantly had his back and he had theirs’ but today was different. Today, he just wanted George to respond to his damn text and not be left on read for hours of excruciating mental and emotional pain.

Dream closed the door behind him and flopped down onto his bed, staring at the popcorn ceiling above him. There was a very real chance that he could be overthinking this entire situation. That was all Dream wanted too, right? The two men are strangers to each other. Just because Dream may find the other’s stupid face stunning even when it was illuminated by the sterile LED lights in the store. He did not need to know how those light freckles popped out like stars in the good lighting. Though, that image was seared into his mind. He certainly did not need to hang on to each word that George said, the accent foreign and exciting and punctuating each word with precision even when the older man stumbled. Dream did not want to remember when George called him asking why the entire college was erupting with excitement after the football game. He had known this man for less than two weeks and was already caught up in their conversations. He craved talking to him.

George tortured him. The younger man knew what he was currently experiencing was true agony. This pain he never wanted to be accustomed to. Dream imprisoned himself in his own mind and two the small black screen sitting on his chest. His phone rose gently with his breath. The screen light turned on a bit, Dream’s breath hitching. He looked down at his phone again hoping to see a notification. Yet, his phone greeted him with just his lock screen background. He rubbed his eyes, the pressure distracting him from his racing mind. He could just block George and end his suffering. It would be easy to simply pretend he had never met the man. That would not change what he thought he was most likely feeling about the other. 

After a few moments of spiraling what-ifs, Dream’s phone buzzed. He jumped a bit and scrambled to pick up the phone, absently fidgeting with the slightly raised surface of the cracked screen protector. The phone finally showed the white text banner with the name George over the top. Dream unlocked his phone and read over the message.   
‘I’m free pretty much all day today and tomorrow. Just let me know what works for you.’ It was a simple, generic response but it was enough to make Dream’s heart soar. He looked at the time and hummed. It was almost four in the afternoon, meaning he could, in theory, invite George over for dinner with his roommates. It was what George and Dream initially planned on anyways. Dream simply provided the British exchange student with a way to make more friends, since he essentially admitted to sitting in his dorm. That is all that this was. He went ahead and extended the offer for him to come over tonight for a movie or video games and the promise of cheap pizza that either one of the American’s would swear by. George responded much faster that time, promising he would be over in about half an hour. Dream texted him his address and a thumbs up before taking a deep breath. He needed to collect himself before the other came over.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading. I'm hoping to update this regularly, but college is a beast.


End file.
